


Blackbird

by Maggisakura



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 19 years after, Angst and Feels, Bestiality, Canon Compliant, Dark Magic, Death, Deathly Hallows, Demons, Depressed Harry, Domestic Fluff, Dragons, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fake Marriage, Family Drama, Filicide, GUYS I DON'T WANT TO SEE THAT HITS COUNT GO UP BEFORE I UPDATE, Harry Potter Next Generation, History Jokes, Hogwarts, Hogwarts is a character, Horcruxes, Houston fetch me my muse that likes to throw my self-critique at me so I can't get to updating this, I pity the people who spend a year actually writing a story and get under 500 hits, I want to succeed with this story thus everything is taking so goddamn long, I'm not joking - Freeform, Lily Evans - Freeform, M/M, Magical Artifacts, Magical Pregnancy, Marriage of Convenience, Muggles, Multi, My 1k mark will not be squandered for this, NO OOC, Necromancy, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paganism, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Soul Bond, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change, Temporary Character Death, The chapter has been edited so that you cannot get any enjoyment out of it, Time Travel, Torture, Underage Sex, Voldemort becomes a support person unwittingly, Voldemort who goes through all levels of done, Wandlore, White Magic, Yew and Holly sitting in a tree..., at some point there will be three Voldemorts running around, auror!Harry, grey!Harry, manslaughter, oh piss off the lot of you, the fact that I favor his lordship is too clear at some points, time and space continuum will suffer a lot, writing this is going to take a while
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:46:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggisakura/pseuds/Maggisakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Begins with the 19 years later world.  Harry lives a completely normal life as the Head Auror until he receives a letter telling him that he has apparently sent a job application to Hogwarts. His random visits become something regular as he's coaxed to try the post by McGonagall despite Bloody Baron's glibbed warning. (This story is getting a new name and it's being revamped.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackbird

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This story contains graphic violence, death, sex, depression, suicide, manslaughter and character development. Everything is based on canon but you will notice some AU elements as there's time travelling and when characters start utilizing this information. I've also noticed that there's a real danger of this story becoming muddled, confusing and very, very long. Since the theme is time-travel, I'd like you to be prepared. Just stop reading if it gets too long in your opinion. This work ignores the Cursed Child entirely for many different reasons.

The smell of soup reached Harry's nose through all the smoke coming from pipes, and alcohol's aroma, before he saw Hannah approach him through the crowd and randomly placed tables in Leaky Cauldron.

  
“I get the owner herself?” Harry laughed and put away the Prophet he had been reading. The tray that carried his dinner was set in front of him gently and the owner of the pub smiled down at him.

  
“Can't let anyone else serve one of our rarest and wanted guests,” she arranged the coffee pot, cups and plates around the round table without any apparent order, took utensils from her pocket and gave them to Harry.

“We have a coat rack, you know. Shall I take your cloak and put it there?”

  
“No thank you, I prefer to have my things close to me.” Harry patted the travelling cloak on his wooden chair's backrest and gave a quick glance towards the other customers. The cloak had almost caused him a heatstroke outside, but, unlike Britain, the country he had just arrived from two hours ago had a very different weather, if the just disappeared pool of water underneath him had been anything to go by. Hannah Longbottom (nee Abott) wiped her hands clean on her apron and offered him her condolences. Just then, she was called over to help by the cook, but not without Harry first giving her a golden galleon.

  
“Appreciated,” she smirked and left.

  
Leaky Cauldron stood where it had always been. It remained the connecting portway between the Muggle world and the Wizarding world, and Harry had been grateful it had been in London, when he had arrived a few streets away into Tottenham Court Road. The dark and somewhat middling, multicultural, air in the pub fit his mind's state now.

  
Harry appreciated this certain sort of calmness, spiced with clanking of pottery and spoons and whispered conversations, in contrast to the loud raid he had come from.

  
The last floo calls had left Travers, his work acquittance, and him deeply concerned and Harry had voiced his opinion, though quietly. With small conferences in Europe demanding the Minister's presence along with his Aurors, Harry felt relieved from his long string of stressfulness as he cut bread into his dinner. That had been his last piece of work for now. He'd probably have a few weeks to rest.

  
“Harry?” He raised his head, his coffee mug on his lips. Ted was standing in the shade and looking as if he'd just been let into a haven. Harry felt an underlying stream of small guilt seep into his mind before he smiled.

  
“Hi there.” The coffee mug was put down.

  
“I knew I shouldn't have come here today...you know, I went to one of those muggle fortune tellers.” The opposite chair's legs scraped the ground, when Ted dragged it away from the table, span it around and sat on it. Harry took another sip from his coffee.

“Said I'd have awful luck this week. Can't say I argue. I lost a bet and got kicked out of my job. Crappy as it was...”

Despite the disturbing news, the boy smirked as if he was proud of himself, which he wasn't. Harry knew that much as he put his mug on the table, letting the spiced coffee's aroma spread around into the air around them. The concoction between the pipes' smoke and coffee was unpleasant.

  
“You're living here now?”

  
“Yeah, got a room right upstairs. It's not much but it's a home. At least for the moment. I'm not sure how much money I've got left.” Ted's hair changed from red to brown and the 18-year-old young man scratched his head. Harry could see sweat drops plastered on his forehead and the shirt he was wearing was wet. It could have been a sign of visiting that fortune teller, of having had a walk outside or of bodily labour.

  
“You can still come and live with us. James would love it.” James had been almost unbearable, when Ted had visited them last time. Harry couldn't even start to describe it, as together they were a force unstoppable. But he was glad his sons had fun. Absent-mindedly, he stirred his drink with his fingers in a display of wandless. Harry raised his head to look Ted straight into his brown eyes and said:

“Ginny wouldn't mind.”

  
“No, she wouldn't,” Ted agreed inattentively and nipped a leftover bread into his mouth. He gazed down without saying anything and for a moment Harry wished that maybe this time he would agree. The refusals had piled up to a hefty number of twenty-four.

  
Then the boy smirked.

  
“That'd be making my life far too easy and I owe you guys a lot.”

  
“None of that now,” Harry chided him and frowned at the first part of the sentence, “You helped me with my greenhouse last summer.”

  
“That doesn't count.” Ted produced something between a snort and a laugh, making the near walnut coloured man stare at them before skipping across the room and up the stairs.

  
“Anyway, Vic doesn't mind. ”

  
“Victoire's not living on her own. How's she? I haven't seen her since Bill's birthday.”

  
“Struggling with summer homework.” Ted stood up and motioned for Harry to do the same, “Speaking of seeing people, are you finally free?”

  
Harry nodded, “For a little while.”

  
“Can I visit you guys then?”

  
“You can always drop by, no matter the season or time,” Harry answered ruefully. Ted made a face and took the older man's heavy travelling cloak and tried to charm it to be a little lighter without succeeding. He looked at his wand and tried again. It didn't work. He looked dumbfounded, failing once again, and searched the Auror's eyes for a mischievous glint.

  
“Don't worry, it's not you. I just don't like it when it changes its size when you change it back.”

  
“What's the point...” Ted's eyes changed to Hazel. He carried the cloak upstairs and Harry followed, leaving his still unfinished coffee with the rest of the dinner at the table.

  
“I'm going to get a new job at here.” The boy declared suddenly, probably in the heat of the moment.

  
“All right.”

  
“You don't suppose there's someone who'd willingly expand my pockets?”

  
“Hannah's a good woman. You can consult her, if you want a bigger salary but you'll probably have to do some extra work. And if you plan to keep your fortune to yourself, I think you should stop betting. It's a bad habit.” It was one of the things Harry blamed himself for. It wasn't Ted's fault he had to earn some quick galleons by betting, but Merlin, the boy refused any financial aid. It was troublesome enough to get him accept Christmas galleons.

  
“Right.” Harry barely caught Teddy's smile as the pub's front door opened so loudly you could hear it upstairs. Harry continued the small talk and thought whether Ginny would be home or not.

  
It had been nineteen years since the Final Battle.

 

* * *

  
The season was excruciatingly hot summer and Harry was about to feel its full potential, when he stepped out, a bit ashy, from the shabby bar of Godric's Hollow.

  
“Thank you climate change,” he muttered to himself and remembered the constant rains of last summer.

  
Harry tried to stay in the shade, and saw that many cottages had open windows and doors. A muggle car passed by him and he jumped to the side of the road and saw a familiar, large, oak tree right at the end of the road.

  
And so he was walking and stewing in the burning summer heat. But every season had their setbacks and Harry was currently half at fault here because of his now improper clothing. He loosened his shirt's collar and opened a whitely painted front gate, attached to a small ivy stone wall separating the house from the road and neighbours, before stepping into a rocky path leading to the house.  
Godric's Hollow had been a wreck, but it had passed the curse breaker's test. Although the touch of dark magic couldn't be removed, no one paid it any attention since not a single person could feel magical currencies so sensitively they would start bothering. And it had been 36 years since the house blew up, the effects were greatly diminished. The only one who refused to come in on visiting days, was Crookshanks.

A thick ivy was climbing up against the house's front wall with perennials and egg plants right under the windows. The garden was blooming and created a colourful scene with its different flowers and bushes Neville had planted and some, which were from the previous owner, creating shades for garden snakes and toads. The wisteria was in full bloom and engulfed the plot of land with its lovely smell.

  
Harry's little greenhouse was in the backyard, although it was a bit of an inside joke. Harry had absolutely no interest in horticulture but had been given the house, when Ginny wanted to try making something new with self-made ingredients, despite Harry usually cooking when he was home. It always made Ron laugh when he complained having mud and soil under his fingernails and how his palms smelled like chicken manure (fertilization, he was told).

  
But mostly it was just Albus taking care of things.

  
On the hard but probably pleasingly cool stairs was sleeping a fat cat. It opened its eyes and yawned as Harry manoeuvred over it and into the house.

  
Abandoning his travelling cloak and hanging it from their coat rack, he put his shoes neatly next to a shoe box, which contained all of Lily's and Jame's footwear.

  
“I'm home!” He shouted.

  
As soon as the words left his mouth, he heard as if a horde of elephants stomped their way through the house with as much noise as one could get from exploding one of George's blank rounds. Harry started undoing his tie and threw it into an open cabinet in the hall. He pressed his eyes, trying to not seem like he was sleep walking in his own home.

  
A sudden shriek – which came from quite close to him- and alarming sound of someone falling onto their face and making a grand fall towards the first floor, had him wake up from his stupor caused by lack of sleep and jet lag*.

  
“Dad you're back!” James shouted from the stairs. Harry smiled at the bedhead and opened up his shirt. The smell of sweat was awful and deodorant had apparently failed him again.

  
“Where's your mother?” asked Harry. Ginny didn't seem to be around. Or then she was treating Albus, who'd caught a flu, right upstairs, but that was highly unlikely because he had yet to hear a chiding for their racket.

  
“Out. Went to get food from the shop. Said she'd be back soon. And-”

  
“JAMES!” Lily shrieked and held her bleeding nose. Her flaming red head appeared at the end of the stairs, almost right in front of Harry, and she was close to tears.

  
“I'm freaking going to kill you! Come back here!” Lily sprinted up the stairs in her shorts and James' old, too big, t-shirt of red and grey.

  
“Uh...” James sprinted up faster with Lily straight behind and Harry frowned when he heard another shriek. He moved closer to the banister and leaned against it, shouting to the two raving right upstairs:

  
“Don't break any windows! And I want no broken bones!” Harry remembered what it had been the last time someone had broken a bone. He didn't want any repeat of that.

  
Quidditch equipment was scattered around the living room and Harry had to remove Ginny's Lightstruck 3 to fall onto the crimson sofa. He almost immediately fell to sleep after his head hit the sofa's hard pillow.

  
Half an hour later, Ginny, who was wearing a lime white summer dress and a straw hat to fight off the heat, came home and didn't close the front door behind her but gave the skies a longing look, pondering whether she should bring her broom out. The clouds were few but it was hot.

  
“I hate Britain's nowadays climate,” she complained and walked inside the house. Ginny much preferred the not utterly ever changing air of eastern Europe, where she had gone many times for her Quidditch games, and liked to think she'd go there for a bit longer period than three months some day. Taking her easygoing shoes off and throwing them haywire to the small entryway, she put her hat onto a wooden chair's backrest in the lounge and scratched her head. She practically dragged herself into the kitchen, where she threw the post, a particularly thick Prophet and a muggle newspaper onto the kitchen table. She filled a glass with blissfully cold water afterwards and drank to fight off dehydration and woozy head.

  
Some time later, James and his sister came back from their human hunt. With hairs were full of twigs, especially Lily's, and other living things that could be met in close contact with lawn and bushes, they were forced to go out and flutter their heads clean. Harry was already awake by then and was enjoying a cup of coffee at the table while reading the Daily Prophet: International. He was looking at an article regarding international relationship between Britain and Greece as Ginny stopped Lily and James from going upstairs.

  
“I need your helping hand,” she waved a bag of flour in their faces and threw them aprons, “We're going to bake something.”

  
“We baked yesterday,” James said.

  
“We're baking today too. And you're going to help if you want to go to the Weasleys tomorrow.” Ginny tied the twines behind Lily's apron and gave her a bowl. James shot her a mean look but complied either way.

  
“Ted's coming to visit us someday soon,” Harry blurted, turning a page.

  
“He is?” James' face broke into a grin.

  
“I can show him the map I'm making!” Lily exclaimed,”When is he coming dad?”

  
“Didn't say. He's busy at work at the moment so probably after a few weeks.” He sipped his coffee and looked up. “Probably next Sunday. Do you have anything then?” Harry directed his stare towards Ginny, who was waving her wand, making batter.

  
“Not that I remember.” She levitated a few rhubarb arms in front of the kids and put a tablecloth over the table, forcing Harry to moved the post away. James gave Lily a challenging stare and started cutting the arms up as soon as he got a hold of an underlay. Ginny had just finished making the dressing.

  
The Potter household was warm and inviting. The floors were made from merbau and the walls were creamy white with their paintings. In the kitchen, the counters and cabinets were made from mahogany. Ginny liked dark but warm woods while Harry didn't really hold preferences.

  
In the middle of the kitchen stood a large cottage table and it had five chairs. The table was one of Ginny's favourites and the tablecloth was to protect it from Lily's slightly unbalanced cutting style that more than once almost made her cut through the cloth. There were also two windows with no curtains but venetian blinds made from light wood, which were good at not letting in unbearable summer heat and sunshine.

  
“Don't cut them so small.” James elbowed Lily's stomach while the girl pouted and glared her older brother. Harry went to the living room to not be in the way and started going through their mail while he was still walking. A few postcards from his friends (Molly and Arthur were in Estonia and Fleur was in France with Bill again) and a couple of bills. Then there were letters that were addressed to him by his department regarding the Auror tests this year and, surprise and wonder, a postcard from Petunia. Harry sat down in an armchair and folded the Prophet in front of him, the first article being about someone named Merrypie Belhorn.

  
The fireplace had a cat sleeping in it. A lot of stray cats often found their way into their house and slept where ever they liked. Potter family didn't have anything against them, except Ginny who cursed their paws after they had slept on the ashes and afterwards walked on carpets.

  
“Dad,” Lily shouted and ran from the kitchen with her fingers full of bandaids. “You dropped one, the most important!” She gave him the opened letter. Harry had told his kids not to open his mail but did they listen? – no. As he read the letter, the surprise on his face levelled up every time he advanced. Ginny chose that moment to come in, while Lily climbed into the fireplace with the cat.

  
“What's wrong?”

  
“Ah, nothing. Just a mistake it seems.” He gave her the letter and resumed opening other mail while Ginny read.

 

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_To Mr. Harry Potter_

  
_Godric's Hollow_  


  
_Mr. Potter we're pleased to inform you that your job application has been accepted and we'll be expecting you to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, starting from September the 1st. We'll be expecting you to arrive a few days earlier to discuss the curriculum and to show you your office._  
_The books you need will be provided by Flourish and Blotts and the year's teaching material will be discussed when you arrive._  


_-The headmistress of Hogwarts_

  
_Minerva McGonagall_  


“You sent an application to Hogwarts?” She turned to face him, eyebrow lifted. “But I thought you didn't like teaching. You only go there completely randomly.”

  
“I didn't send anything.” Harry gave her an annoyed frown, “It's a mistake. I'll sort it out tomorrow.”

  
“You sure you didn't send any application of any kind? It could have been an accident. I know the way you sort out your ministry mail. What if it came through there?”

  
He hadn't thought of that. Harry's forehead creased as he tried to remember a time he might have been too tired to properly see an address or accidentally grabbed an application and filled it, not to even mention sent it.

  
“Impossible.” Harry shook his head. “I'm not that scatterbrained.”

  
Ginny shrugged with wry humour. “Then let's talk about Quidditch.” She looked at Harry with a strange twinkle in her brown eyes. “You did find out about it, didn't you?”

  
Harry put his newspaper away and stared at her seriously. Ginny looked back just as seriously before he gave in.

  
“It's held in Britain.”

  
She shouted in excitement and jumped, fist high up in the air. “I knew it!” She whispered furiously and leaned in to give Harry a quick peck just out of excitement. This made Lily, who was holding a very reluctant looking cat in the fireplace, grimace.

  
“I knew we were going to hold the World Cup this year!I felt it in my bones. So where is it? Bristol? Wales?”

  
“Somewhere in Scotland. The guy in the Magical Games and Sports department didn't really know more since they're only organizing it freshly. I was asked to provide some security. I plan to ask Dawlish for help.”

  
“That's daring of you.”

  
Harry ignored her comment. “There is still two whole years before it. And you've got tryouts to do before that and that transfer to handle.”

  
“Oh that? I wasn't accepted.” Ginny didn't look particularly sad about it. Instead she took Harry's Hogwarts letter and studied it with what Harry recognized to be real interest. It seemed like she really wasn't bothered by the back blow, which, in Harry's opinion, was more ridiculous than his letter. Perhaps Ginny had somehow mitigated the disappointment when he had been gone. Harry was grateful if that was the case. He offered to help her train while reading a muggle newspaper, which made her laugh but she accepted. Ginny skipped to upstairs to go to check on Albus when Lily burst into the living room with what appeared to be a tin bucket with a lid.

  
“What have you got there?” Harry asked and folded his paper away. He hadn't noticed she had gone away from the fireplace, except the ashy footprints and pawn prints, which led to the back door next to the sofa were an excellent proof in themselves. Lily looked meek.

  
“I didn't really catch it. It was just sleeping in there. I'm going to give James a scare. I know he hates them.” Lily removed the lid and Harry figured he did want to know what was challenging the continued existence of his son. The lid was only partially moved and Harry could see why, when two beady black eyes stared back at him from the bottom of the bucket. A long forked tongue shot out to taste the air but hit the bucket's walls instead and it drew back just as quickly as it had came out. The lid closed.

  
“That's a sawtooth isn't it?” Harry questioned, having seen the reptile's back.

  
“Yeah. And it's grey. It's one of those...” She bit her lip, trying to come up with a name for this snake.

  
“Viper. They're poisonous,” Harry remarked. Lily looked surprised.

  
“It's not going to bite him. I'm only going to scare him.”

  
“It's going to do just that if you take it to James. And besides you'll drop the bucket when he starts running away.” Harry said and held out an expectant hand. But Lily, who was giving the bucket to Harry, accidentally dropped it and the lid came off.

  
“Go up!” Harry gestured hurriedly and he raised his feet from the ground, now squatting in his armchair, while the younger girl gave a frightened flinch and backed away into the fireplace. The tin bucket sustained a dent but nothing more serious as it rolled on the floor, the lid going separate way. It clanked against a wall and the snake, looking harassed, glimpsed the outside world with its beady eyes. They landed on the opened door and then onto the people in the room, and after a moment of seemingly serious thinking, it seemed to come to a conclusion that going under the sofa was the safest route of action. It was a much smaller viper than what Harry had anticipated; maybe this spring's hatchling, but that didn't stop him from being apprehensive.

  
“Go get my wand darling. It's on the kitchen table if I remember correctly,” He ordered almost routine like.

  
“Roger.” Lily saluted and jumped down. She ran to the doorway and quickly glanced back before sprinting away. Harry sighed.

  
Lily came back with his wand held in her grasp. She gave a slightly panicked stare at her surroundings at the threshold and threw the wand at Harry and immediately jumped into the fireplace again. The ash pile in front of her safety spot was growing whenever she moved a bit and more ash fell down.

  
Harry knelt in front of the wine red sofa and searched for the reptile with his eyes. There was a window right above the furniture so the sunlight provided him good light to see in even though it was still shady.

  
“Accio,” he pointed his wand at the creak under the sofa and the snake came, slowly, rising from under the piece of furniture until it was dangling in the air, harmlessly, in front of them.

  
Of course it had gone under something shady. It was way too hot for even snakes to be outside it seemed. The garden bucket, which Harry suspected was the dented one in their living room now, was usually full of water and should have been in the gardens.

  
“Come on, let's get you out before Ginny kills you,” Harry said. The snake's tongue shot out and back in quickly.

  
A cat was about to come in but thought better of it, when it saw the hovering snake and a girl in its usual sleeping place. But Lily had already seen it and having lost interest in the snake (or waiting for an opportunity to come and take a closer look) she ran after it, most likely scaring it to the woods right behind the Potter estate.  
Harry walked into a grove behind their house and made sure to go a bit further with his guest. He ended up putting it onto a rock that bathed in sunshine. He didn't touch the snake once and was about to leave, when he heard muttering.

  
_**§Thanks...§**_ the viper hissed quietly, prolonging its 's' slightly as it whispered the same words a Boa constrictor had said to Harry, when he had been ten. His heart skipped a beat and he straightened his back, looking after the summer snake with a flabbergasted face and mind reeling with an inkling. The viper slithered down from the rock and further into the grove with a slight rustle from the leaves and litter, leaving Harry to wonder whether he'd heard it right.

 

* * *

  
It was within the next days that Harry flooed to Hogwarts to resign or do whatever he had to. Removing the cats from the fireplace, where they were making a mess with free catnip and ash (probably from Lily), Harry went into their too average sized grate and after throwing in the floo powder, green fire enveloped him in seconds.

  
A silver instrument that strewed glistening bubbles greeted him first. A few of them exploded and Harry was in a coughing fit in seconds.

  
“Scourgify!” The bubbles on the floor were gone and he noticed he was alone in the office. A silver instrument, one that Harry hadn't seen, was on a table next to the headmistress' desk; a night sky showing above its silver mini-platform as if it was a hologram. The desk, however, was clean of everything except a lamp, a quill and an ink bottle.

  
He decided to check the Transfiguration classroom if by any chance McGonagall would be there. Before he had the chance to turn towards the door, a merry greeting reached is ears. He turned around towards the gallery of late headmasters.

  
“Morning,” he greeted, when most of the paintings were still snoring and it was almost afternoon.

  
“Good morning to you too.” Dippet offered him a polite smile. A snort from Phineas and a snatched sweet from his neighbour assured Harry that Dumbledore had been listening. He took the job application – which he, once again, had not posted (he would honestly remember doing it even if he had been drunk) – from his pocket and levitated it right under Dumbledore's crooked nose.

  
“And this is...?” Dumbledore corrected his glasses and squinted.

  
“A fake. Obviously.”

  
“And obviously you have no eye for plagiarism. It's your handwriting; anyone can see that.” Phineas rudely interrupted and adjusted his turban. Dippet glanced his way in a berating manner, earning him a glare.  
“And don't you start lecturing me about anything. I'm not particularly fond of your voice.”

  
“Phineas! You act like a mere child!” Heliotrope Wilkins shouted, scandalized. The Black headmaster gave her a cold shoulder and disappeared from his frame with mumbled words of different rude things in at least three languages.

  
“Forgive him. We aren't all like that,” she insisted and added a spiteful note in the word 'that'.

  
“I'm aware.” Harry wasn't even sure he had ever heard this particular headmistress speaking before and didn't even know her. Dumbledore's polite cough caught his attention.

  
“Well?”

  
“Oh no, I was just wondering how your summer has come along,” Dumbledore inquired and brushed imaginary dust off from his robes. Harry didn't know whether to be absolutely frustrated or amused by this strange change of topic.

  
“It was short and I experienced enough of the sun to last a lifetime. Kids liked it though.” Harry eyed the clock on the wall and noticed it was past the time he had planned to spend here.  
Before Dumbledore could say anything else except pleasantries to keep him from going, the letter was stuffed into his pocket unceremoniously and Harry left.

  
He was slightly sweating when he arrived to the ground floor, hopping down the stairs. Harry took off his opened shirt blouse and tied it around his waist - he was wearing a big airy T-shirt under it anyway – and knocked three times after arriving behind classroom 1B. He entered and immediately spotted professor by her desk.

  
“Professor?” Harry wasn't sure how to start this conversation and suddenly it seemed pretty awkward.

  
“Good morning. You don't mind do you?” She was performing calculations with an opened Transfiguration Today on her desk.

  
“No, no. I'm not here for long.” 'I hope'. Harry shook her inky hand.

  
“This is the reason I'm here, actually. Sorry I didn't call before I came.” Handing McGonagall the letter, he sat down to a chair in front of her desk.

  
“Yes, I'm aware of this Is there a problem? The teachers' meeting is not yet. I've informed every teacher that it's on the 25th of August, or at least I thought I had,” the woman muttered, feeling slightly baffled that the message hadn't reached everyone. “I have to say I was quite surprised when I saw that application. Held your family seal, name and everything.”

  
He really didn't remember using the Crest of Potter on anything.

  
“Never judge a book by its cover,” the old woman snorted but offered him a small smile. “Shall we discuss this here or do you want some refreshments?” A tray came zooming in on them. This was exactly what Harry had been trying to avoid.

  
“No thank you. I just want to make things clear. I haven't sent any applications as of late and I have my hands full as an Auror. I don't know what mix up there's been but I cannot take this job.”  
“But you've always seemed so eager when you come here once in a while.” McGonagall frowned and Harry might have squirmed. His sense of duty was eating him up.

  
“I'd be having at least most of the school to teach as it's a compulsory subject.”

  
“Well we can arrange an assistant for you! Don't think others haven't used them. We'll get you one who'll take your place when you're doing raids and such.”

  
Harry was finding it really hard to argue with her so he bit his tongue. He didn't have time for any of this and he wanted to spent his remaining vacation without any worries or stress that came with a new job, but on the other hand, he wanted to appease her; not let her down. He knew they had trouble getting capable D.A.D.A teachers nowadays, despite the removal of the jinx on the post, and the last one hadn't been British but that hardly mattered. His family wasn't in need of extra money, he neither wanted nor needed this post and he himself wasn't an educated teacher and had no patience for classes and still his mind kept stalling him.

  
“Yes, but I don't think I'd do well with kids...” Harry lied through his teeth. It would have been different if the woman had asked about teaching them Quidditch. Harry would have done that, just to prove Ginny wrong that he had gotten rusty.

  
“Potter, I don't know much about Aurors but we have a probation here in Hogwarts. The minimal amount is one month and I think you could try it for that long. If it doesn't go well with you then quit. If it does, then...” she shrugged and let the sentence hang in the air.

  
It was fifteen minutes later, when Harry left the Transfiguration classroom behind and felt something churn in his stomach. Imploring had apparently worked and in McGonagall's case, the older woman might not have even known what she done. Harry felt his adrenaline pump into his veins, making him feel lightheaded. He couldn't believe this, he had enough work to do already and he had...

  
“Dammit Potter,” Harry scowled at himself and wiped his forehead and corrected his glasses. A suit of armour was clanking as it walked past him, coughing, but Harry paid it no mind as he tried to think positively. The only things - and very stereotypically so - that came to mind were paperwork, tests and less sleeping and possibly mixing his Auror work with his school work on the same desk. It was not enough to render him miserable or complain but it was definitely a big factor in lowering his spirits, when he arrived home later that evening. But right now it was midday three o'clock.

  
“When are you going to notice me? ” Harry started at the words spoken right next to him and jumped straight into Bloody Baron.

  
“Watch where you're going boy!” The Baron shouted indignantly, starting himself and touching his chest where Harry's head was. He moved away and Harry, who had felt like he had jumped into an icy pool, closed his eyes to compose himself. The gaunt man looked very tired with his curly powdered wig looking like it had fallen off at some point. Harry didn't hold enough interest and didn't even think it was polite to ask what had happened and could the Baron please correct it since it was bothering him and Merlin he was going to throw up!

  
“Don't do that.” He wiped his mouth, frowning.

  
“I've been hovering here next to you for a while. And what did you forget?”

  
“Good afternoon.”

  
“To you too.” Sarcasm, lovely. Bloody Baron snorted and stared at Harry as he was trying to compose himself. The ghost seemed to observe Harry very closely but remained quiet.

  
“They've got medicine in the kitchens. For heatstroke and nausea.”

  
“Thanks for the concern.”

  
“Never concern! Don't think that lowly of me.” The Slytherin house ghost snapped. Harry just nodded, not really feeling like arguing with someone and just wondered if ghosts felt that it was too hot for that. Not very likely. Maybe he should go to the Forbidden Forest at night to cool off. The only downside would be getting eaten by a werewolf. If the rumours were anything to go by, Fenrir Greyback had escaped from Azkaban and was now building his pack again. Azkaban's Aurors had yet to say anything on the matter but Harry doubted the press was far away with their guesses.

  
“So how's your summer?” Harry asked and tried to route the conversation to something more neutral. Clearly he was mistaken.

  
“Horrid! That headless Nick has complained about the Headless Hunt this whole month and even Peeves is starting to get tired of it.”

  
“Must be horrible..” Harry wondered why Ghosts' subjects were never anything new.

  
They rambled about great deal of things but they were both very reserved. The conversations were being kept light and nothing of blight entered.

  
“Er...does your scar hurt right now?”

  
“Are you stumbling with your speech, Baron?” Harry teased, offering a mischievous smirk of his own. The other reared his head and seemed insulted. Harry stared the carvings of Baron's sword as the other rested his hand on the pommel. Harry absently touched his scar, when it started prickling a little.

  
“What was your visit about?” They ascended the staircases together.

  
“A mix-up with applications. Nothing more.”

  
“You're to come back to teach?”

  
“Don't look so surprised. I didn't want this.”

  
“Neither did I.”

  
“What's that supposed to mean. Am I so unpopular around here?” Harry laughed and despite the controversy between the summer heat and Baron's chilliness, he was finding himself enjoying the dead man's presence. He hadn't seen Nick around either.

  
“The others are counselling with each other if you're thinking about them.”

  
“How very astute. Still, I suppose they aren't satisfied.”

  
“Don't be silly,” The Baron snorted and stared at the masonry and paintings covering the first floor, “We have no right to complain and at least I have lived these twenty years in exuberance ascendancy. I admit there are things that aren't the same but most of the castle is quite alright. But they're not discussing such things.”

  
“Recreation challenges?”

  
“Definitely negative.” a barking laugh left Harry's mouth, “I left because such blether is not important any longer.” Blether proved to be a subject he wasn't willing to discuss even though Harry was curious, so he dropped it. The gargoyle guarding the headmistress' office was already in view, when they heard an oddly cheerful shout from behind them.

  
“Baron! There you are.” Harry looked over his shoulder to see Gryffindor house ghost and Grey Lady gliding towards them. Nick smiled in a good manner at him before addressing the other ghost.

  
“You shouldn't disappear like that. We'd like everyone's opinion on these matters.” He made a gesture with his free hand, as the Lady was occupying the other. Baron wasn't budging and turned his gaze away.  
“Do not try to chide me. Your drivel is as useless as this person here.” He threw a look at Harry.

  
“See, as self-centered as ever. Let's leave.” Grey Lady tugged Nicholas' sleeve, clearly expecting to be as far away from the Bloody Baron as was possible.

  
“Now, now. Don't be like that. Did we interrupt anything, by the way?”

  
“Not really.” Harry answered for the Baron, feeling a bit better now that he had seen others too and slightly peeved for being called useless. “I need to go anyway.”

  
“Might I have another moment of your time before you leave?” Baron inquired politely. Harry was surprised.

  
“Baron, I think you should-”

  
“It is essential.” He snapped at Nicholas before speaking fast, “Would you mind...?” The Baron indicated that he follow Harry. Harry nodded and tapped the gargoyle's head four times (there was no need for passwords at summer time) before saying goodbyes to the other two. Grey Lady looked murderous anyway so Harry didn't doubt the reason why Baron wanted to be away from them.

  
“Do not mind them. They're a bit upset, that is all.” He said, hovering up in the air next to Harry as they went up again. Harry hoped the late headmasters and mistresses were sound sleep as he opened the door. Apparently that was the case.

  
“Can you throw a privacy charm around?” Baron asked and eyed around. Harry complied.

  
“What's this about now?” Harry raised an eyebrow and noticed that one or two paintings had opened their eyes. Perhaps this was a necessity after all. Baron held out his hand before he started drawing the sleeve of his coat back. Harry's features turned compromised when he saw what was under.

  
“Ghosts can take magical vows?” This was nothing he had seen previously but the pattern was still the same: fiery strands were the only colour on Baron's otherwise pale skin, though they were hovering above, not touching.

  
Baron cowered his arm. “I should be glad it is only this but do you see what this means?” Harry had half a mind to ask what was worse but decided it wasn't truly relevant. He hummed in response.

  
“I could try and trace it,” he offered politely, raising his wand and silently asking for a permission. Baron shook his head, the curls on his wig swaying.

  
“You'd be wasting your time. You cannot trace this as the castor doesn't truly have a magical signature or a corporeal body...”

  
Baron grabbed Harry's arm, which took the Auror by surprise. A cold chill went down his spine as the contact with the ghost numbed his senses.

  
“...Be careful, Potter. ”

* * *

  
(ง •̀_•́)ง (ง •̀_•́)–o (ง •̀_•́)ง -3 You're not reading past this. Wait for the goddamn update.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this work will hereby take a vow to never introduce any bashing, OOCness or incorrect information in this piece of fiction. If such things make it past the editing stage, I'd like to ask my readers to point them out to me so that I can take a look at them. If a breach of this vow is concluded to have happened, the unfit content shall be edited to adhere to the rules. If I do not see anything wrong, then nothing will be edited. Thank you.


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